by Marieta Maglas
An echo reflects a voice,
fading into the distance
and transforming into
a celestial resonance.
A voice emerges
when someone speaks.
Imagine the echo of
a long-winded monologue.
A word breaks free from the self,
no longer tied to its origin
to become a ghost; a specter;
not in self any longer.
A specter can resemble
the remnants of the paraphernalia
of those screaming sorcerers
that have intriguing insights.
A word is a tangible idea,
a vocal expression.
Sometimes, the impact of
the heavy expressions can
generate seismic restlessness
around; butterfly effect,
volte-face, and transmogrification;
weaving tales in the haze;
the cantankerous and splenetic
tones can resonate atop
the mountains, where
the prayers are being billed
as messages to heaven;
ascension; clear-sightedness;
to kneel in prayer,
despite the tension of
clenched teeth for
the essence must always find
an assumption in
the deep-rooted words;
to craft mellifluous verses
that captivate the hearts of
all who listen. Imagine
the ashes of those hearts
still aching for holiness,
akin to echoes; enduring
suffering and sacrifice for
a willable deity existing in
both the past progressive
and future perfect tense.
The words are refracted echoes
of their former selves.
Imagine the void of
divinity and
the thoughts that
have been forsaken.
Last updated June 29, 2025